


OTP Shenanigans

by perletwo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Chapter 3 deals with cutting, F/M, Imagine your OTP, Tumblr: imagineyourotp, chapter 7 deals with a canon suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perletwo/pseuds/perletwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because this tag needs more love & this tiny rare pair ship needs more headcanons, I'm going to do some Imagine Your OTP shorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From Hell Via Sweden

_Imagine your OTP getting really confused while trying to build IKEA furniture._

Undercover SHIELD agent at Hydra Jemma Simmons is twitterpated in her little flat while trying to put the piece together. She’s hunted up YouTube videos, programmed a computer sim, has even been reduced to Babelfishing the Swedish before concluding that these instructions violate the documented laws of physics.

Her boss Sunil Bakshi comes in unannounced (through the locked door) and scowls at the mess. “Usually my spatial coordination is better than this,” Simmons tells him with a sad shrug. He picks up a piece of particleboard, frowns at it, then turns and leaves her to twitter over it further.

Half an hour later Bakshi comes back in, with two Hydra musclemen carrying an antique hardwood bookcase in the same size. “You have the money to buy real furniture, Miss Simmons,” he sneers. “I don’t know why you’d even bother with _this_ stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr with a Clint Barton/Phil Coulson version [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104023625587/deathclw-imagineyourotp-imagine-your-otp)


	2. Double Time

_Imagine Person A of your OTP having a considerably longer stride than Person B, and Person B always needing to quicken their step in order to keep up._

"Status of the original research team is unknown. Status of the first search team, also unknown. We have a file jacket with all reports from both teams and background on the research project - your department, Miss Simmons - but you’ll have to review it on the plane. Wheels go up in 10 minutes."

Mr. Bakshi snapped the information out in time with a brisk goose-step down the corridor to an elevator. Behind him, Dr. Jemma Simmons followed, along with a brace of Hydra guards. A full foot shorter than himself, Simmons performed an odd hop-skip step in an effort to match his pace.

She yelped when he stepped into the elevator, and she rushed ahead. Bakshi made no move to hold the car door, so Simmons leapt for it. Behind her a guard caught the door at the last second and held it for his team. Simmons glanced up at him, struggling to hide her consternation. “Sir! Would you _mind_?”

Bakshi looked down at her, taking in the color that had risen to her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, and her slightly faster breathing.

"This isn’t SHIELD, Miss Simmons," he said, impassive. "At Hydra the strongest of us set the pace. You’d best keep up, or be run over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104032887167/imagineyourotp-imagine-person-a-of-your-otp)


	3. Red Line

_Imagine person A of your OTP catching person B cutting themselves and person A begging person B to stop._

The door opened, and Jemma froze, razor blade in hand. Bakshi stood equally still, taking in the situation with icy calm.

He broke the stalemate by stepping into the lav, closing the door and grabbing a hand towel. Once he’d folded the cloth into a compress, he applied pressure to the row of small wounds on her upper bicep. Jemma looked from her arm to his face and back, mind racing to frame an explanation.

"I got drummed out of the Royal Marines for doing this, you know," Bakshi said conversationally, and reached for her other hand to take over the pressure. Then he rummaged in the lav’s storage for bandages. "Got sent for mandatory psych evals. Not sure why they cared, as long as I was getting them the results they wanted."

Jemma took a deep breath. “I don’t …” She stopped, closed her eyes. “It’s been hard. The last few months. SHIELD’S collapse, so many friends dying. Nearly dying myself. Then having to start all over. Working here. It’s very - cold here.” She winced when he swabbed the wounds with alcohol. “D’you know, when you called me in to interrogate me about Gill, that was the nearest thing to a real conversation I’d had since I started here?”

Bakshi nodded and taped a gauze pad into place. “You don’t make a habit of this,” he said, running a finger down the smooth skin of her arm.

"Not in years. A decade maybe," she said. "I was - 15? I think, 15 - and I was doing my medical residency and finishing up my second doctoral thesis at the same time. I thought for sure even in this business I’d never be under that kind of pressure again."

"Yet here you are." He met her eyes, and she blushed.

"Do you? Still?" she asked.

"I don’t feel the need to anymore." He opened the door, hesitated, turned back. "Miss Simmons. Don’t let me catch you doing that again."

"Understood. Sir." The door closed a little harder than necessary over the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104046039662/imagineyourotp-imagine-person-a-of-your-otp)


	4. Across the Aisle

_Imagine your OTP being at the wedding of their distant cousins, one person to each side of the couple’s families. They are shocked to see the other, and coincidentally look each other in the eyes when their wedded cousins exchange vows._

"…and I just can’t believe our David is marrying a _heathen Indian_!”

"Now now, Auntie Edith, I’m sure Sita’s a lovely girl, David wouldn’t settle for less." Forcing down a grimace of distaste, Jemma patted the older woman’s arm. "And this is hardly the time!" she added in an undertone as the Bridal March began.

 _Well, even Edith will have to admit she’s a stunner, even for a_ heathen Indian, Jemma thought, watching the bride walk the aisle alone in a red and gold silk sari. Sita paused, smile brightening, and brushed her fingertips over the shoulder of a man seated across from Jemma’s pew. With a frown, she leaned backwards to look around her aunt and two cousins.

To her shock, she locked eyes with Sunil Bakshi of Hydra.

_“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”_

************************

At the reception, Jemma prowled the church’s auditorium, watching Bakshi. At last he made his way across the room to her with two champagne flutes in hand.

"Miss Simmons. You look lovely." She thanked him, reflexively glancing down at herself and smoothing her skirt. "You were sitting with the family, I notice."

"David’s my cousin."

He winced. “The mother of the groom is your aunt then.”

Jemma sighed and nodded. “I see you’ve met her. Sorry. Mum’s usually the one running damage control on Auntie Edith. But she’s laid up after minor surgery and Dad’s taking care of her, so it falls to me to represent them.” She sipped her drink. “How do you know the bride?”

"Cousin," he said curtly.

"Oh. I thought I understood Sita hasn’t any family to speak of?"

"Distant cousin," he amended. "Her side of the family stayed in New Delhi while my parents immigrated to London. She tracked me down a few years ago, looking to reconnect as adults."

"Then she must be very glad you were able to attend," she said. He nodded, and they turned polite attention to the call for the newlyweds’ first dance.

"They look happy," Jemma observed. "You, not so much."

He looked over at her, curbed the sharp response that leapt to mind when he saw her look of open curiosity. “I don’t - really _do_ this kind of thing. Family,” he explained. “My parents died when I was young, and there wasn’t anyone else. Sita’s life went along the same lines. But she wants this very badly, the big happy family she’s marrying into.” He looked around the room. “Me, I’m a complete fish out of water here.”

"It has its ups and downs and dark sides, family," she replied. "I believe you just met one." He shrugged ruefully. "If it helps, I’m not doing much better here. People keep asking what I’m doing these days - can’t tell them - and asking when _I’m_ getting married - can’t punch them, damn it."

He laughed. “Perhaps we could run interference for each other then. Care to dance?”

"Why not?" Bakshi caught her elbow with his free hand and led her out to join the crush of couples swaying on dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104051891217/imagineyourotp-imagine-your-otp-being-at-the)


	5. Lucky Guess

"You’re going to meet a tall dark stranger," said the carnival’s elderly "gypsy" fortune teller, in a voice redolent of a six-pack-a-day habit. "Always wanted to say that and mean it. He’ll be polite to you, but cold. Menacing. But he won’t be able to take his eyes off you. You’ll be frightened, but you’ll also secretly love the attention."

Jemma Simmons hummed noncommittally. “That sounds lovely, Madame. It also sounds rather like you noticed me reading Wuthering Heights over dinner in the food tent. I did see you there, didn’t I?”

"Ahaaa, an unbeliever! So young to be so cynical." She wagged a finger at Jemma. "He’s going to worry about you getting cold. And he’s going to whisk you off to someplace exotic, maybe on a ship."

Jemma sighed, paid the woman in tickets, and left for the Ferris wheel.

A week later three burly security guards escorted her upstairs to meet Sunil Bakshi.

An hour after that he handed her a heavy jacket. By midday, they were in Casablanca, boarding a Hydra cargo carrier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104058520132/imagineyourotp-imagine-person-a-of-your-otp)


	6. Black and White and Red All Over

_imagine your otp spooning and person a is about to fall asleep when person b quietly whispers a pun into their ear_

"You know, I never did get around to putting that cow project in my reports to SHIELD," Jemma murmured sleepily.

Curled up around her, Bakshi hummed. "Which cow project?"

"We have more than one?!" She turned her head, saw his poker face smile, and sighed. "The one with the cow that gives blood-red milk."

"Ah, that one. Just as well you forgot really." He kissed her earlobe and whispered, "Hydra just hates a cattle-tale."

An elbow in the ribs was his reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pun-chline courtesy of PunGents.com.
> 
> Can be found on tumblr [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104224249657/cassandrapentaghast-imagine-your-otp-spooning)


	7. Mixed Emotions

_Imagine person B of your OTP in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt. Person A feels confused, hurt, and just plain angry about the whole situation but doesn’t know how to talk to B about it._

Simmons moved restlessly around the hospital bed, checking tubes she’d already checked, smoothing the bedsheet, and trying hard not to show her worry.

Across the room, she heard snippets of Bobbi and Hunter’s conversation. Neither of them would care if her patient died, she realized. There was no point in trying to explain that while she abhorred Mr. Bakshi’s work with Hydra and had little use for the man personally, seeing him suffer was…not as satisfying as it might’ve been.

"Maybe what I really wanted wasn’t for you to suffer, but for me to be the one to punish you," she said in a low voice.

Bakshi didn’t stir, and Jemma wiped away sweat - it _was_ sweat, she was sure - that welled beneath her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr [here.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/104225738372/otp-ot3-imagines-imagine-person-b-of-your-otp)


	8. Spit and Polish

_Imagine person B wears a uniform one day and uses it to their advantage against person A (who has a uniform kink)_

Sunil Bakshi trudged back into the Hydra labs with the unconscious Agent 33 in his arms. He dropped her onto an exam table.

"She needs medical attention, and someone with tech skills. The nano-mask has been - damaged," he snapped at Simmons and Turgeon.

Turgeon immediately rushed to the table, clucking over the patient. Jemma looked up, intending to ask for more details about the nature of 33’s injuries, and froze.

"…oh." Bakshi was still wearing his Col. Talbot disguise, sans jacket, but the uniform was if not wrecked, at the least badly rumpled. _Well hello new kink,_ she thought with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Something wrong, Miss Simmons?"

Jemma swallowed and wished she wasn’t so prone to blushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt is from [this list.](http://mahbuddymycroft.tumblr.com/post/100291211496/imagine-your-otp-ice-skating-imagine-person-a-of)
> 
> Can be found on tumblr [here.]()


	9. Confined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _from[this list](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/113651194942/brella-important-ship-tropes-fake-dating-secret) of Important Ship Tropes:  
>  being locked in a room or trapped in a small space_

"Oh, joy. They're setting up camp out there," HYDRA agent Sunil Bakshi hissed to his associate, Jemma Simmons, late of SHIELD and even more lately of HYDRA. "There's a poker game starting, I think. Possibly _strip_ poker."

"So we're stuck." Jemma ducked under his raised arm and peeked through the slats of the closet door. "Well thank heaven - at least - those aren- aren't -" Her breathing went unpleasantly ragged and a hand came up to her throat.

"Miss Simmons?" Bakshi leaned down for a closer look in the closet's dim light. 

"- aren't anyone - i us- used to know," she finished, and a high pitched giggle slipped from her mouth. Bakshi slapped a hand over her mouth and swore quietly. A line of sweat glistened at Jemma's hairline; her face was pale and she was beginning to tremble. He eased her to the floor and began rubbing her shoulders.

"You're not an experienced field agent, Simmons. This is adrenaline kicking in -" She shook her head, a little wildly, and seemed to forget to stop until he caught her chin between two fingers. "Breathe. Slowly," he whispered, and she gave it her best shot.

"Panic attack," she whispered back, enunciating with exaggerated care. "Clau-stro-phobia." After a few more deep breaths, she continued, "I was on a SHIELD jet during th-the last fight w-with Garrett. He - they - we were locked in the m-med-pod - jettisoned into the sea - it-it was like - being in a coffin..."

Bakshi nodded, pulled out a handkerchief to dry her face, and checked her pulse. Satisfied with the reading, he pulled her into his side and whispered in her ear.

"Just try to relax. We're on solid ground. We're not even locked in really. Just pinned down. All we've got to do is be very still and quiet, and wait for our chance. If we get discovered first, worst that happens is they take us out of here. If it comes to a fight, I'll cover you."

"Thanks," she breathed back, fighting the urge to hyperventilate.

"Oh, don't thank me. It's my neck on the block too, you'll notice." Jemma swallowed down another giggle, and his arm tightened around her, lips brushing her temple. "Why haven't you done anything about this? Talked to someone, taken mood stabilizers, I don't know?"

"First time it's happened. Didn't see it coming," she whispered back, and sighed. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "Hmph. I've had worse mission complications. Just rest." He bumped her forehead lightly with his, and felt her gradually relax against him.

_________END_________


	10. Sorry I Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _From this list of[sentence prompts](http://toxixpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/113277607304/aus-sentence-prompts-i-thought-of-at-4-30am):  
>  "Is there a reason you never say my first name?"_

"I'm just wondering, sir - I have made the overture, after all - Is there a reason you never say my first name?"

"Jemma was the name of the first woman I ever killed."

Simmons' eyes grew huge and her jaw dropped. Sunil Bakshi palmed his cell phone and snapped a quick picture of her gaping face.

"Perfect," he said, and turned the phone to show her the picture. An eyebrow raised, and when Jemma caught his eyes, he grinned wickedly and started to laugh.


	11. Trust Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt from_[this list](http://alloftheprompts.tumblr.com/post/111307442622/prompt-set-346) at alloftheprompts.tumblr.com:  
>  \- I don’t owe you apologies.

"You're going to be just fine, Mr. Bakshi, despite your best efforts."

"Wonderful. Just grand. Perhaps I'll get lucky and you'll be as inept a physician as you are a young one, Miss Simmons."

"I hate to disappoint you, but the fact is, I'm brilliant."

"You must hate yourself a great deal then. Since you've already proved a tremendous disappointment as a HYDRA agent. I took up for you with Whitehall, did you know that? Told him we should move you up to our security level. Pity there wasn't time to carry that out before you were exposed; it would've been a grand slam for a traitor like yourself."

"I don't owe you any apologies, Mr. Bakshi. Or have you forgotten what business it is we're in?"

"There are professional betrayals, Miss Simmons, and then there are personal ones. Care to guess which ones hurt more?"


	12. It's Not Warm When She's Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This one isn't technically from a prompt, but someone sent an audiofile of Bill Withers'[Ain't No Sunshine](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/114277429397/trashpope-bill-withers-aint-no-sunshine) across my tumblr dash, and it sparked the plotbunnies._

HYDRA leader Daniel Whitehall winced and looked up at his favorite lieutenant, Sunil Bakshi, as Bakshi made his seventh pass pacing the length of Whitehall's office.

"Mr. Bakshi. Please. _Sit._ Have a drink if you like. But do stop wearing holes in the carpet."

Bakshi growled and moved to pour himself two fingers of scotch. He didn't sit, but leaned against the bar cart and looked out the windows while he sipped.

Whitehall sighed, put down the file he was studying and removed his reading glasses. "Relax. Your young lady will be back home soon enough, with a dowry of SHIELD intel."

"She's _not my_ -" he snarled, then drowned his temper in a large swallow of scotch. " Simmons is brilliant, to be sure, but even with the memory block encouraging her to act 'normally,' I doubt thinking on her feet is her forté. If she's caught -"

Whitehall waved that away. "You don't give your Jemma enough credit. She'll do us proud, you'll see."

"It's just that she's so utterly unprepared for this kind of field work. The phrase 'sending a lamb to slaughter' keeps ringing in my mind."

"And normally the plight of the livestock doesn't bother you, but this is your pet lamb, no?" 

Bakshi winced, but this time didn't deny it. "I know, I know. The plan is solid. Her programming is tightly designed. The timetable is set. It's just the _waiting_ that's driving me mad." He killed his drink and set the glass down. "I want - I want to _do_ something. Something physical. Something that'll take all of my attention."

He turned and lifted a bottle for a refill, and Whitehall's cell phone rang. He picked up and listened for a handful of minutes, then ended the call and looked up with a smile. 

"Well. It appears the very thing has dropped into your lap, Mr. Bakshi. One of the disposable cell numbers assigned to Garrett's protegé Grant Ward has just come back to life. You can assemble a team and take point on finding out what that's about."

Bakshi snorted. "Take point and get out of your hair, you mean."

"If you like," Whitehall said, leaning back with a satisfied smile. "Go! Go! Entertain yourself. After all, how much trouble could a thing like this really be?"

______________________END__________________________


	13. Special Topics in Osculatory Physics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Done for a prompt from [inkasrain](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inkasrain) on tumblr, from [this list.](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/117201459282/prompt-set-411)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _#5: That’s not what I’m interested in._

"All right, Miss Simmons, I'm here. What was so important you felt the need to summon me down to the lab?"

Mr. Bakshi kept his expression stern, forced himself to ignore the brightness of his subordinate's warm brown eyes or the delight shining on her face. "I've got it, sir. I've got it! I cracked the means by which the power of the freezing device got bonded to Donnie Gill's cells, and how it changed their structure!"

"Take a look," Jemma offered, stepping aside to let Bakshi check the microscope, waiting while he adjusted the focus. "See how the cell walls have assumed a crystalline shape? The amplification of the lightning strike through the machine rewrote the 'code' for each individual cell of his body, turning each of them into a generator of subzero temperatures instead of the heat biological organisms' cells usually give off. Add that to the high percentage of water in the construction of the human body, and you've got a human ice machine."

Bakshi grunted in acknowledgment. Jemma stepped closer, put a hand on his shoulder and pointed to a few lines on her computer screen. "Best of all, barring surprises in the testing phase, I'm fairly certain it's a process we can duplicate. I thought you'd want to see this immediately, since I know that's what you're interested in."

He lifted his head and turned it toward her abruptly, bringing his lips close enough to hers that Jemma could feel the heat of his breath on them.

"That's not what I'm interested in," he murmured in a low voice, "at this particular moment."

He watched a frisson of nervous excitement slide through her, and smiling smugly, brought his lips down on hers.


	14. TLC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _for[abedsmessedupmeta](http://abedsmessedupmeta.tumblr.com), Bakshimmons +“Let’s get you to bed.”_

He was barely upright when May and Bobbi hauled him into medbay.

Dr. Simmons turned, expecting to see her arch-nemesis Grant Ward, and found instead Sunil Bakshi of HYDRA, to whom she assigned mere nemesis status.

He was bruised and bloodied, but conscious. “M’s S’mmons,” he slurred.

Jemma raised an eyebrow. “Should I see the other guy?”

“heh … wish…” Bakshi started, then broke into a heavy coughing fit. A few drops of blood were mixed in with the phlegm, and Simmons fought to keep her expression neutral.

“Right. Well. Let’s get you to bed,” she said briskly.

“…wot … think ‘m that easy…?” He tried for a smile, ended up with a wince of pain.

The three women levered him onto the foot of the hospital bed, and Jemma began her examination, starting with the open wounds on his face and hands.

She smiled thinly and poured antiseptic on a gauze pad. “This might sting _just_ a bit…”

He hissed at the contact. “Sadist.”


	15. Proportionate Response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Imagine your OTP killing a cockroach together._

The doubled report of gunfire bounced deafeningly off cinderblock walls, and the smell of cordite filled the bunker.

 

Simmons and Bakshi holstered their pistols in unison, just as they’d drawn down as one upon spotting the imminent threat.

 

“Ahhhh, don’t you think that was maybe a little excessive?” asked one of the lab techs.

 

Jemma tilted her head, considering the smoking bits of chitin that were once a disturbingly large Palmetto bug. “Nnooot really, no.”

 

“You should see what I’d do if it were a rat,” Bakshi added.

 

“It _flew_.” Jemma shuddered. “Can’t stand it when they fly.”

 

Bakshi nodded, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.


	16. For the Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set just after s2e08, "The Things We Bury." It's my idea for the genesis of the brain scanner Simmons uses on Kara in s2e20 "Scars" to declare her free of HYDRA indoctrination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _from[alloftheprompts Prompt List #381](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/114536372287/prompt-set-381): "unusual level of commitment"_

Jemma Simmons couldn't quite suppress the flinch when her patient's hand crept up to close around her wrist. The fingers of her other hand twitched, aching for the gun tucked at the small of her back.

"Peace, Miss Simmons. I only want a word," her patient rasped. HYDRA agent Sunil Bakshi released her wrist, and she forced herself to relax. The poison was out of his system now, but after all he was still too weak from its effects to overpower her.

"Something the matter? If you've any symptoms you haven't already mentioned -" Jemma broke off as he shook his head.

"No. Unless worries are a symptom." She kept silent, giving him the hard eye until he only mostly suppressed the urge to squirm. "It's just - It was something she said -" He broke off into a small coughing fit, and took the cup of water she offered.

"Yes?"

"...Is there a way you can tell if someone's been brainwashed? Or, I don't know, is still brainwashed?"

Jemma raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you don't already know of one, being somewhat of an expert in the field and all."

Bakshi shrugged. "I know what brainwave patterns look like when programming is successful. But without a baseline for comparison, could you tell?"

She considered, continuing to cast a gimlet eye upon her patient. "What is all this in aid of? Who said what that set this off?"

"Morse. She said - she implied that Whitehall might have - made me _compliant_ , and programmed me to forget undergoing the process." Jemma nodded.

"And that meant something to you," she finished. "Did it trigger something in you? A memory, a flashback, that makes you think -"

"No. No!" He cleared his throat, sipped water again. "Not the way you mean. I just - it made me look back, suddenly. At who I was before HYDRA, who I've become since. I mean, I can't deny it - she's right, Morse is, I do present an...unusual level of commitment to HYDRA. And the fact is, before I met Dr. Whitehall I was always an opportunist, a mercenary. Never a joiner or one to buy into some cause or another."

Bakshi spread his hands wide. "And now look. How far gone am I ? To do _this_ to myself? Because it's _the right thing_?" He made air quotes around the phrase. "So I have to wonder. Did I get here on my own? Really?"

Jemma frowned in concentration, paced a few steps forward and back alongside the bed. "Fitz and I were noodling about with ideas along these lines when we were studying the Memory Machine," she mused, half to herself. 

"You're right, it will be difficult to state anything conclusively without scans taken prior to your HYDRA indoctrination," she told him. "And it'll take us a little time to rig something up. But if we can, will you look at the results with me? Lend some of that expertise, help me interpret?"

Bakshi's eyes closed and his shoulders relaxed against the pillow.

"Absolutely. In theory, I should know the patient better than anyone, yes? And at least then I'll know _some_ thing."

"I'll get back to you on this, then. Meanwhile just rest up." He nodded, and she turned, mind humming with ideas for a new wearable scanner band, and left to find Fitz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on tumblr [here](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/131139072882/agents-of-shield-bakshimmons-otp-shenanigans%22).


	17. A Probing Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to tumblr [here](http://perletwo.tumblr.com/post/131142041112/agents-of-shield-bakshimmons-otp-shenanigans)
> 
>  
> 
> _from_ _this prompt list:_   
>  _“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”_

The question hung in the air between Jemma Simmons and her erstwhile HYDRA boss Sunil Bakshi.

"...I lost a bet," Bakshi said finally, with all the dignity he could muster while shackled, naked, to her headboard. Simmons continued to scowl waspish disapproval at him, so he added, "to Dr. Whitehall."

"Ah. Well. No wonder you couldn't get out of it." One corner of her mouth quirked up slightly. "So to speak."

"First off, I'm no welscher," he snapped, indignant, then flinched when Jemma stepped up to the edge of the bed.

"Seckle down, 'm just checking out the damage to my furniture," she muttered with a smirk.

"Glad to know your priorities are in order, Miss Simmons." Bakshi rolled his eyes, but forced himself to relax when her attention did settle on the chains' fixtures. "Second, there's a camera streaming this to his computer, so you might give your course of action here some real consideration."

"Think I've got something that'll prise this out," she mumbled under her breath, then stepped back, hands on hips and lips pursed, and studied the man on display before her.

"So tell me." Jemma's smile and voice were tinged with smugness. "Which of us did your Dr. Whitehall intend for this little prank to embarrass the more? Me? or you?"


End file.
